


Right In Front of You

by j_gabrielle



Series: Joanna Strange [2]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, Rule 63, Slow Build, fem!strange, future pairing, mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4548696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At this, Strange rolls her eyes at him. "Thank you for your kind words of reassurance. I am sure that looking like a woman will most definitely not get us killed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right In Front of You

Grant kicks at a pebble, finding no satisfaction as it bounces and rolls away from him. "You know Merlin, I'd actually like to be back on the road whilst the sun is still shining. It makes for a much easier task in navigating the terrain." 

"Oh, do be quiet Grant. You're not the one who has to work out the infinite mysteries of this human torture device." A rustling of the bushes behind him makes him tilt his head. Grant stands at arrest, eyes forward to the sparse landscape around them. He hears Strange mutter a string of expletives, a frustrated groan. "Grant come help me."

He turns at that, suppressing the urge to chuckle at the sight of their magician red faced and glowering in her state of half-dress. "Oh dear Merlin. Whatever you did before people came into your life is a conundrum I find terribly interesting to ponder upon." Grant steps up to her, batting her hands away and straightening her dress for her. He fixes her buttons, making her presentable. "Hoe ever did you manage to stay alive for

"I managed." She grits out sullenly, letting him work out her mistakes. Her hair is an untameable mess of curls. Grant sighs, giving up on it instantly.

"Have you really never worn a dress before?" He asks, picking up her bonnet from her saddle bag. 

Strange takes it from him, pulling it over her head. "Once or twice. Most recently at Arabella's request. She wanted me to try on one of her newer things, but on hindsight, I think it was more of something that she wanted me to learn for myself." Looking down at herself, "I wish I had paid more attention to her teaching."

Grant makes a considering noise. "For something we pilfered, that dress looks well on you." He smiles.

"Yeah, well." Strange says, mounting her horse. "I'm looking forward to the moment we are done with this charade to burn this. Dresses are the enemy, Grant. The real and true enemy."

He laughs, mounting his own horse. "Yes. I can see that." They nudge their horses into a gallop, setting off down the road to their destination.

"I look like my great aunt Mary." Strange declares as the town they were being sent to comes into sight.

"Is that a good thing?" Grant asks, fishing through his pack and tossing Strange an apple. When he receives no answer, he continues. "Remember. We are only here to observe. Keep an ear out for chatter on local resistance movements and the gossip on the French."

"I still don't see why I have to be in this contraption." She mutters. Grant tosses her a look, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her.

"The French spies are on the look out for a  _male_ English magician, Merlin.  _Male._ " Grant emphasises. "The last thing they'll ever expect is you looking convincing in a dress." He grins.

At this, Strange rolls her eyes at him. "Thank you for your kind words of reassurance. I am sure that looking like a woman will most definitely not get us killed."

Grant smirks. "Chin up Merlin. At least you know that the local lads will be distracted by the shape of your arse to be concentrating on their words."

"So, I am bait now?" Strange scoffs. "Unbelievable."

"If you are to be anything, you're the distraction." He pulls his horse up next to hers. Reaching over, he nudges her shoulder. "Hey. I promised you didn't I? That I won't let any harm befall you while I still breathe?"

She smiles weakly at that, as if still not entirely convinced. "You can't promise me that. No one can."

Grant pries her hand off her reins. "But you know I will do my best. Don't you?"

The moment lies heavy between them. Unspoken truths whispered into the touch of Grant's hand on hers. Strange looks up, lips parted slightly as if to speak when they are greeted loudly by a farmer and his cart of hay travelling down their way.

"TIme to get to work Merlin." Grants says, pulling away. Strange nods, taking a fortifying breath.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come talk to me](http://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
